A Devil in the Moonlight
by The Slow Hand Muse
Summary: Complete. What can you do when your heart no longer beats properly and the lamenting is louder than the words of kindness those around you could offer? Maybe something in the dead of night can bring Sakura back around. SakuraKakashi pairing! LEMON
1. In Flight

**Disclaimer:** Nope, sorry don't own the anime series Naruto, the manga or even any of the dead sexy characters. Well... now that sucks.

**A/N**: Hmmm, I think I know where I want this one to go but it might just rear it's ugly head and bite me on the ass and tell me to go somewhere else. I was in a pretty dark mood when I started and I guess I'll put this out for now. Feelers as it were and then post the rest of it as it unfolds in the process of writing. Sorry it's so short, but I should have more soon.Also my apologies,I've been neglecting my other story _"**If Only for a Moment**_", it seem to be taking on a life of it's own and going in different directions in my head, so I'm trying to sort through all the crap first before posting anything new on it. 

**A Devil in the Moonlight **

The night air was bittersweet, it clung somewhere between the last dredges of summer and the blossoming of autumn. Everywhere the once crisp green of a new seasons growth was curdling and spiraling in on itself, turning a bronzed face towards the sun in defiance of the chill and monochromatic nature of a white and snowy winter. The evening still held that last breath of warmth, smelling so enticingly of long forgotten perfumes and wilting cherry blossoms as the soft pink petals blew through the breezes carried along the streets of Konoha.

And the young girl with hair the color of those very blossoms found her body and mind restless as the shifting trees. The whisperings of those dying leaves tickling at her senses, vaguely brooking through her mind and driving her out of the security and warmth of a welcoming bed. Too many thoughts, too many demons snaking under her skin and clawing through her eyes and into the back of her head where her most private torments, heavy and bloated on her anger and grief, contentedly slumbered.

The lateness of the hour had no consequences, no afterthoughts of danger waiting in the lurking and growing shadows of buildings where devoted family lay in rest, comforted in the company of familial alliances. And above it all smiled down the moon, only a sliver of silver against the velvet backdrop of sky and twinkling stars. It mocked her, smiling luminescently, bright and shining, giving it's sagely light to all those that would but turn their face up in offering to it's beams. But it couldn't pierce her heart, couldn't spill into the inky cracks, every so slowly widening with each emotional storm, Sasuke's rejection had speared into the still bleeding object in her breast.

_Let it try. It'll be devoured down just the same_, she cast her thoughts with bitter resignation back up at the moon, even daring it to so much as try to cast it's sparse light to the far reaches of those creeping spaces in which another part of her was wilting with neglect, vainly reaching a trembling hand out towards the retreating echoes of steps across a desolate road. _Sasuke_, her desperate moans fell on indifferent ears, just a minute piece of sound in the flurry of fate, drowning down and smothered under the boot and weight of a path she could not hope to tread.

_No one can hear you anymore, no one cares anymore_, that tiny little voice had grown into something large, lumbering with distinctive mass and voracious hungers that feed at the slow dripping and leeching away of whatever was left behind in it's wake. Something seeping and slithering with icy tendrils through the recesses and chinks in her mental armor. Something she couldn't beat down and cover with her genteel mask. No silly smile in the world was enough to swallow it down, make it less and so much more that insignificant spark of doubt and self loathing. Not even Naruto's.

_Where you going to go, lost flower... so lost... so lost... so lost.. soo... lost_, insatiable beast, maddening, fevered, simple minded, it plagued her, stood resolute in the shadow of her body casting bloodied stones at her frail and fragile shields, venom dripping from a haggard mouth riddled with razor bladed teeth that could cut and tear and rip. _Oh yes, tear, rip... bleed for me little lost flower_.

It was getting so heavy, so very heavy to carry the burden and she no longer remember which voice was which. Which impish facade spoke of her own trepidation and which was the nagging remembrance of him. _Your still annoying_, and just like that, it was clear cut as diamond, no sparkle left to the faceted surface, allowed one too many times to tumble and rush and flow with the violent streams of a dark and lonely river winding through a land it no longer recognized and towards a wavering illusion of sunset and crimson sky weeping ichor tears.

She hadn't realized the kunai was even within her grasp, the cold press of metal digging into a quivering hand and across it's blade dancing with merriment the free flowing expression of a release. She'd felt no pain, no sensation, hadn't even been aware of the bite of blade and the parting of flesh before it's will. It flashed and fuzzed around the edges, gliding sensual and lazy, falling and falling, a ripple like water across a still surface onto the ground. A lone testament to her passing, a fleeting reminder that she still had blood to shed, still had blood to give in the cause of her quickly eroding dreams.


	2. Morbid Fancies

**A/N: **Sorry another short installment, this one was particularlly grueling as my computer decided to eat the document several lengthly paragraphs in. Remember people SAVE often save is your friend. As always, read, REVIEW and enjoy!

She was of course, deluding herself, she had no dreams left to her. She'd long ago abandoned them, dropped carelessly along the transverse that lead between the good of what once was and the bleary reality of what is. It'd taken a direct and brutal slap to the face to make her eyes truly see, for the rosy hue to fall away into the dust, shattered and pined after. And once clear, she'd not liked the dreary and gloomy reality that hovered before her face. A canvas of deepening shades, fading and ruined. It curled at the edges, pulled loose and draping like some sadly forgotten rag doll. It streaked and oozed in bleak stripes across what was once a pristine and opulent scene. The nativity of youth had blinded her, had lead her to believe all was pure and virtuous and she'd been more than willing to let it keep it's hold over her. 

How often now the compulsion to sink her fingers in knuckle deep into the hollow sockets of her eyes wormed it's way into her gut and her conscious thoughts. _Would it be a sickening wet sound, or a sharp pop as the orbs ruptured_, she'd morbidly inquired to no one at all. Her mind was set on the macabre, there was no getting around it. Like she really cared, her body was so much useless flesh, her mind little better than fragmented memories woven in a tapestry of lies and self asserted false truths. But she was all too well reminded that not even that would bring her comfort, would shield her away from the growing darkness. Because in the end, it would only deepen the shades that crept across the floor seeking for her warmth, for her living flesh, thrusting talons still further into her screaming wounds.

That would have completed the cycle of her miserable and unimportant life. Blinded, heartsick, useless, just another burden in the weak guise of a human girl. That could even define her any longer, she was no more a girl than she was a woman, straddled between the fine line of innocence and the maturity of womanhood. _No, nothing to see here, keep walking, look see Sakura smile... look see Sakura still happy and light and free_. But she wasn't free and she wasn't happy or light or even anything remotely among the living. She was a walking corpse, rotted and reeking, the flesh still moved unwilling to believe the spirit had already fled. That the heart was no longer content to beat, no longer wished to be anything so frail and attached to the mortal failings of the human condition. _Why don't they see? Why don't they save me from myself?_

And in the rush of her flight she took pause, her awareness blurred and lay smoky and illusive, but it was there pondering at the wet trail dotted here and there across a tree branch, little pools of her vitality clinging remotely to a railing, a roof tile. Turning empty jade eyes down, it dawned on her, she was bleeding. _Wasn't she?_ Her brain had failed to remember, was inapt at sending the proper impulses along her nerves and registering the sensations of pain that should have been twitching in the palm of her hand. As if to not see it, made it less real, something nonexistence. _Pain? What pain, I don't see anything... oh wait there it is_. The moment her eyes rested across it, that reticent pain shot through her hand, pulling the muscles involuntarily taut, the fingers spasming around a shallow and puckered tear slowly weeping. It drew a ragged gasp from thin and colorless lips, a haggard breath pulled from lungs that worked of their own accord.

It was funny how such a small and insignificant thing could kill her if even the tiniest germ were to invade her body. Running rampant with disease through her system, ravaging her body with malevolent intent. How much funnier still that it should end like that, a tiny death, a tiny flowdering mistake of carelessness and neglected injury. Not when even the larger abscess was festering within her, oozing and pus ridden and begging with a withered and raspy voice to allow her to lay down in the dust and the dirt and close her eyes forever. Perhaps then in the reveries of mist and cold earth, could she know the peace one was expected to want.

She was nothing, meaningless and without purpose, wandering aimlessly through the witching hour of night and the scents of a season in decay. A slip of mortality, of flesh and tears and so much distress, of never-ending pain and suffering for which there was no cure. How cruel now the universe seemed, it's desires that all things should have a place and a purpose, even if it was only a fleeting breath stolen between one moment and the next and then faded to nothing more than so much carrion. How many had they come across so pitilessly looking for the same drive? How many had she seen just give themselves over to the cruel embraces of blade and remorseful demise, when the reasoning of their beings lay staring blankly up at an uncaring sky, devoid of emotion of care and in a mockery at the threads that had bound them to their fates.

_Slip for me, little flower. Fall down and down... fall into my mouth,_ she could feel the beasts breaths curling and scalding the back of her neck, or maybe that was just the wind as her foot no longer held purchase beneath her. How careless, how foolish a misstep, blundering head long into a plummet because she had been so determined to not see where she was going. To let her feet carry her, to let the muscles strain and give and propel her onwards and onwards, she didn't care where. The ground was quick to rush up to welcome her free floating form. _So light_... But oblivion was not so easy to call her into it's arms, impulses fired, speed her threshing heart into action. _Into the feet, concentrate the chakra into the feet._


	3. Fettered and Faded

**A/N:** Thanks so much to everyone that's actually had the patience to read the story. Though I am a bit disheartened to see no one has reviewed at this point. shrugs I guess I'll just have to get over it. As you can tell I was in a pretty dark mood when I started writing this, not sure where it came from, it was supposed to be something else which I'll hit on in the next installment but stories often take you places you never expected. As always, read, enjoy and please review. 

"Choke choke again  
I thought my demons were my friends  
Getting me in the end  
They're out to get me  
Since I was young  
I've tasted sorrow on my tongue  
And this sweet chugga gun  
Does not protect me"- "Coming Undone" by _Korn_

**Fettered and Faded**

Once again she'd been saved by the reactions of her training, the thoughtless impulses of body over mind. An extension of her energy, her chakra flaring, burning lucid, opaque and unbound through those invisible lines that ran through her system, circulating like her blood and flowing into her feet just in the nick of time to adhere to a branch. _Damn you... damn you all_, her curses could have fallen away from her lips, like so much dribble but her tongue refused to function past the swollen and bloated thing sticking to the roof of a dry and inable mouth. She was one of drought, so brittle and lacking, it hadn't been long since her last tear but her reserves were empty, barren and desolate like the desert sands shifting on uncertain torrid drafts.

Besides there were voices enough wailing there laments, there urgent attentions in the shell of her ear, burrowing through her skull and nestling like wriggling maggots in the niches of her head. She could feel, touch, taste, see, and so much more than she'd ever even wanted to imagine of them all swimming behind her vision, shuffling just beneath the timbre of her ear drums, thrumming through the beats of her heart overshadowing even the mundane descant of white noise conversation. _You can't cut us out... you can't NOT hear us_

And thus the silence that wasn't silence at all lay pregnant before her, eliciting no greater a reaction than the slow languid fall of dark lashes over indolent eyes and resting in semblance of contemptible repose on smooth fair cheeks. _Slowly in... Slowly out...,_ her breaths took flight, succumbing to that terribly awful dependence on oxygen._Why do the dead need air? Surely we don't really truly need THAT._

Her vision swam, blurred and unfocused around the edges, giving the whole of everything around her an enervated texture. Everyday objects moving in leisurely fashion, a drudgery at realism, bringing an arid laugh, a diminutive bubble of vibrations from parched and cracked lips. She was slightly giddy, but it was a humorless mirth, something silly and trivial and immature._Stupid little girl, what do you really think your laughing at_? Or maybe it was the blood rushing to her head in her current position, dangling upside down as if that had not been an unnatural position, her feet securely set against the wood as if she were standing upright.

_Myself_, she could finally confined within herself, her sudden voice faded back into the stillness of nothing, her lips falling in tight lines, neither consisting of a frown nor a smile nor anything remotely resembling an emotion other than a blank and unfinished mask. _See Sakura…. See Sakura giggling like an incompetent school girl._ She felt vaguely neon, like a gaudy sign post screaming it's advertisements in flashing colors, gruesome hideously pink text blatantly ignored by casual passer-byers. _We've seen this show honey, show us something new_.

Her mind groped, like the dirty untrained hands of brash youth caught up in the carnality of closet cappers and promised innuendos, for distraction, anything at all. _Let me see… just this once…_ Imperceptible, unproductive, those green spheres which lolled around in the sockets of her skull, glassy marbles of cracked and murky pigment failed to grasp the concepts of image and form evolving through the humid tides of deep evening. The more she concentrated, tried to hold the slippery visuals in her bloody grip, the more it eluded her, precariously lurching between her fleshy digits.

_Let it all go, … just let it ALL go_, never an easy target to be achieved when one was not often alone, when all the jeers of perplexity and every poorly developed sense of turmoil had shrill vocalizations, carried through with brutal substance. Pounded, hammered and trodden endlessly into her troubled ego. Blissfully her mental acuity swayed and sank into the copious density of quietude; enveloped her body, rushing in like furious rapids to fill in the rifts, arms held wide in welcome embrace.


	4. Disclosing Appetites

**A/N:** Okay, love goes out to **Denisen** for her kind reviews. Thanks again darling, I live for a good word about my writings. I hope you all enjoy this installment. I... ummmm... kinda got carried away, so it's a touch longer than the rest of my chapters. But hehe, I do so hope you enjoy it none the less. Read, enjoy and review. 

"I want to hold you close  
Skin pressed against me tight  
Lie still, and close your eyes girl  
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close  
Soft breath, beating heart  
As I whisper in your ear  
I want to fucking tear you apart"- 'Tear You Apart' by _She Wants Revenge  
_

**Disclosing Appetites**

_Alabaster.,_ the word filled up her mouth, clattering against her palate and left a sweetly acidic taste at the back of her throat, like just ripened oranges. iWe remember this taste/i, it was almost a low coo of vibration, rumbling through her body with remembrance. A subtle stutter claimed her heart, a minuscule spark of undaring hope. It soon brought the proper impressions that followed and permitted her feeble brain to grasp the concepts of worldly sight. There was a man ahead of her, moving among the sparse threads of moon and darker shadows and she'd not even known it till this precarious moment. If she hadn't slipped, she might not have ever noticed, she might not have ever stopped till her body could no longer function, could no longer summon up the stamina required of such an arduous undertaking.

_Sasuke_. it was just another longing moan, filled to brimming with her unresolved passions and yearnings. A phantom pain, as if she was missing a limb, but the body still remembered where it should have been, should have completed her. Narrowed vision, she peered intently at the figure moving in and out of the collection of broken rays, filtered through the heavy foliage of over hanging trees that rimmed the small clearing. She'd just skirted it, clinging to the edges of a small field, demurely tucked away within the embraces of forest and woodland. Had she come so far? _Stupid, careless little girl. Were you planning on running forever?_

The taste of copper pennies, metallic and salty, on her tongue; the stinging clash of teeth into the meat of a lower lip biting down the rest of whatever voice assaulted her, drove out the bitter snagging beast that took such rejoicing in her misery. The form drifted eloquently through simply executed Taijitsu exercises , a contrast of sharpened angles and softly defined features highlighted in changing hues of midnight all dependant upon where the light held sway strongest in ever changing position. Sudden realization dawned upon her, hit her with all the force of a blow to the gut, stealing the arid breath from her shriveled and despairing lungs and drawing once empty eyes so very wide with disbelief. Every part of her fumbled for clear cut apprehension, rebelling in mutinous design against the false hope of the forethoughts that had flamed such unwanted fancy.

This poised and practiced figure was none other than Hatake Kakashi, her beloved mentor, trusted teacher, sagely Sensei and note worthy leader. He was not to be the accommodating, and oh so gratifying, object of some depraved and debaucherous minded youth. _It's a pipe dream, get your head out of the clouds_. A mere fluttering of the eyelids, a mere second to drink in the rapture of such earthly embodiments. But they stirred in her deeper sentiments, deeper cravings of one that too bore such pallor. _Those aren't clouds my head is stuck in. _The incalescence of such impure thoughts exuded its lecherous heat into her suddenly flushed skin, coloring her cheeks in breathless tinges of rose.

She was adrift upon prolific swells of unheralded adrenaline and drunk upon the ghosts of old memories, so teasingly tainted with the heady enshrined treasures of all too recent recollections. Now, now she could recall the taste of ripened oranges, whose breath had been tinted with its savory perfume. A delicate shudder ran through her limbs, skittered down her spine with warm and lazy hands, spreading its little inklings of propensity. Somewhere within the depths of her a fist clenched tighter, aching and pulsing around feelings and sensations she had no true words for. And with each draught of awareness came a flood of conscious recognition, drawing the tips of her dainty breasts into tight aching pebbles. How they must have protruded, highly pronounced through the material of her dress, but she neither cared nor warranted it the attention an alert mind might have.

She remembered... _Uncertain steps carried her through the darkness, into the side room, into the privacy of a small closet, the quarters so cramped and undersized. All coherent thought had long since fled as Sasuke lead her by hand, a mysterious smile stretching his lips, a devilish light in those dark eyes, drowning pools of unreadable elation. Her heart and blood had been so loud in her ears, screaming in panic and joy. All things were blurred and unreal around the edges, this couldn't be possible happening. She was dreaming again, letting her wistful wanderings take her to places where she'd defied abashment and let her fingers carry her into lewd release. _

_His hands were rough, insistent as he pushed her back against the cluttered wall, ignoring the small cry that had escaped her pert little mouth, a sense of dark satisfaction churning through his eyes at that tiny plea of pain. The press of his lithe body against her own, molding and fitting snuggly into the crevices of her giving flesh was enough to draw out a low moan. Nestled firmly between her shaking thighs his knee found the softness of her palpitating femininity, forced it up agonizingly slow to rub against the budding flower of her sex. _

_So prone and helpless, he was mercurial in his movements to take full advantage of that supple and beckoning portal of her mouth. He'd lingered only a moment, hovering breathless over her lips, that sweetly acidic breath whispering across her skin, sending goose bumps scrambling over her arms. The small hairs at the back of her neck electrified as they stood upon end. Just a tiny sensation as his tongue encompassed the sweep of her lower lip, such a scalding euphoric addiction. A faint and indistinguishable whimper sounded deep in her throat, galvanizing him to greater heights. The claiming kiss was neither gentle nor forgiving, eager tongue feeding at her hunger to appease him, swallowing down her wanton voice and tasting the succulent fruits of his labors. _

_Agile fingers explored her trembling construct of virginal structure, splayed across the expanse of her softly defined ribs, caressing hedonic touches over fragile ill-disposed clothing. She burned inside for more, the influence of his embrace overpowering her senses in arousal, making that secret oasis beneath flow and ebb with every impression branded through his hands, knee and mouth. She was dying, being consumed from the inside out with this fiery need of sensualism. That's when his fingers found the smooth mound of her breast through the too thin dress, rolling his palm across the tip, coaxing the little stone to rise taut and prepared for the taking should he solicit such actions_.

Yes, she remembered.


	5. Kindled Nostalgia

**A/N:** This is the last and final installment of this fic, I hope you all liked it. It dragged out longer than I had expected it to and I'm sorry for any of you that felt it was fragmented and confusing. It was meant to be all in one document. I have posted it in that form over on the Adultfanfictions site. Feel free to leave your reviews and comments I really do like to hear the input of people on my stories. Lets me know if it was a piece of crap or not. 

"I wear this crown of thorns  
Upon my liar's chair  
Full of broken thoughts  
I cannot repair  
Beneath the stains of time  
The feelings disappear  
You are someone else  
I am still right here" _-"Hurt"_ by _Johnny Cash_  
((Nine Inch Nails also does a version of this song too))

**Kindled Nostalgia**

He'd long since seen her dangling there on the edge, so lost seeming, listless eyes seeing nothing at all, often vacant and distant. Those eyes froze him down to his very depths, made him huddle that much more down around the warmth of his personal acceptance He wasn't always happy with life, but he'd accepted the blows and the tears and all the joys and drama it would bring. He'd watched the emotions flow across her face, skitter and run through her eyes in varying degrees of distress. It seemed almost wrong that he could bare witness to such intimate turmoil, and thus he'd continued with his practicing. When the moment was right she'd come to him. Anything else and she might have run in terror, fleeing like a puny rabbit before the gaping maw of the wolf intent upon devouring her.

That emotional display had stirred in him, his own roller coasting, the thoughts at the edges of his conscious turning over and over like a leaf caught in the breeze, tumbling head long into an abyss of unknown decisions. But the moment he'd seen undisguised passion fill up those empty spheres and flood down into her skin, tinting it in a deeply set blush, he'd known she was no longer looking at him, but someone else. Or at the least, that was his eternal hope. His foot slide across the grass, a small misstep, but it'd been enough to bring him out of his fluidly executed exercises. Had been enough to bring his body to a full stop and allow both his eyes to unbidden sweep across his suspended student.

The _CRACK_ that followed geared him into sudden action, his legs were moving before his mind had even had time to register what had taken place. It'd only taken a few second, his feet hurriedly closing the distance, a short leap and Sakura was in his arms, right side up. He'd entertained the idea of keeping her dangled in either hand by the ankles, it might have disoriented her less in that position but it seemed somehow obscene to have the poor girl so exposed. The edges of his mouth curled in an amused grin, his eyes narrowed down, reflecting back his kind-natured greeting as the girl with the hair of cherry blossoms came round out of her deeper and despairing thoughts.

"Hello, Sakura." His voice betrayed none of his concern, it only carried through the lighthearted tone that he wanted to bring across. Another foolhardy pitying opinion was not something she needed at the present moment he'd silent agreed with himself. If the darkness had ever been a palpable and touchable thing, it was clear and immediate, rolling off her body in trembling waves, cresting and breaking against whatever obstacle stood in its wake. He pushed back the flutter of despair pulling at his own heartstrings and gently set the girl upon her feet, keeping her close as she seemed unable to properly keep herself upright.

It had seemed an eternity of never-ending moments of decrepit propaganda playing again and again through her mind with nostalgic envy of what was too far away to reach. It'd wrecked its havoc through her heart and body, left her panting and gulping for composure. The solid feel of arms around her, the cool press of naked flesh against her own fevered skin sobered her to her present engagements. She'd been so lost to the whims of her libido that she'd focused too much charka into her feet and exploded the branch that had innocently offered her its support. He'd caught her, his name whispering deceptively comfortingly through the halls of her psyche, _Kakashi_.

She wrapped her feeble mind around the word and let it sinks down through the icy depths of her inertia pulling back that last dredges of haze and personal chastisement. Somewhere from within her she pulled forth the strength to paint upon her visage that terrible mask she shone to the world, throwing concocted spacklings of her old self into the valueless things she called eyes. "Thank you, Sensei, I wasn't paying attention." That small voice held the notes of hardiness he'd come to expect of her, but he knew it was a falsity, a farce of appeasement. _See… see… nothing at all wrong here, please please keep walking?_ The faint bubble of nervous laughter that accompanied her words settled like a lead weight into the pit of his stomach. His hands twitched with the need to do something, anything to drive away the fraudulent representation of exuberance blatantly shoveled at his feet.

_Run... run now you wrecked whelp_, it was a screeching command echoing hollowly through the vast desolate chambers of her cranium. She didn't want to move, didn't want to breath past the moment as she rolled her gaze upward, that handsome face so tender and caring despite the harshness of the shadows that obscured his face as if he still wore his own masks. And just like that, she felt the comforting weight of his arms around her, pulling her in closer towards his body in a surprisingly consoling gesture. _He knows…. Now you've done it_. She made to pull away, but the gentle squeeze of his hands, insistent in their mission of solace relaxed the tensions running sharp and agonizing through her limbs. _Take what you can, hold it close and don't let go…_ it spoke with a child's vocalizations, so small and tittering on the brink of someone she used to know.

"Don't give up yet, Sakura," his voice filled the night, flew with lustrously bedazzling wings through the pitch curtain that fenced her in, carried her higher above the levees of a dark and distilled tide. "There is hope, still, after all Sasuke didn't kill Naruto after all." And in those simple words was so much truth that it pained her heart to hear them, speared through already existent pikes laden with the heads of her internal tormentors, gnashing their teeth to the bitter ends of denial. She vaguely felt his body curl around her, the weight of his lips pressed to the top of her head, the faint and sweetly tempered apple scent of her hair filling his senses with the presence of her. And she no longer felt so brittle in his grasps, so unreal and illusive a thing as alike a will-o-wisp leading unwary villagers to their demise.

Though she hadn't been there, she'd heard all about the fight that had taken place when the five had been sent to rescue Sasuke. Another pang of regret, _you're still annoying_. Naruto had promised to bring him back to her, but he'd failed, he'd fought and thrown himself head first into Hell just for her. There had never been any intent within the blonde's heart to take the life of his closest friend, he'd done the thing the Uchiha had said he couldn't… he'd left a single deep scratch across the forehead protector. And even the darkly brooding boy had redirected that last fatal blow to somewhere less potent, had resigned himself to a different destiny and not the bloody inheritance that his brother had tried to lay before him. Sasuke had made the choice himself, for good or for bad, she had to see things through to the end, and she had to hold onto whatever speck was left of hope that kindled in her heart. _I will love you always, I will wait for you…_

Her Sensei went dead still beneath her gently exploring fingers, softly tracing the hard lines of a solid and muscular abdomen. She'd heard his breath catch, and a tiny bit in her hoped that it wasn't in overstated disapproval and outright rejection but an echo of the need within her. She was such a devil, such a teasing vixen, when he was not the object of her desires, merely a shade, a suitable substitute. Her mind dwelt on another, how he could feel like this for her. _Sasuke._ Skin like silk beneath her trembling touches, body quivering with the need to roll her cheek that last little bit and brush her lips unbidden across his stomach. The need was maddening to close the distance that would allow her to dip a tiny pink tongue into the shuddering navel, breaths erratic at her ministrations, and taste of his essence. They would such flitting and genial caresses probing lasciviously into the shallow indention, rolling the taste of him across her lips.

"Sakura," Kakashi's voice was calm, puzzled, but it'd taken a measure of time and control for him to respond. He couldn't help the stirrings of his flesh, despite the fact that it was so taboo, so disallowed, but temptingly amicable, like the apple the serpent had dangled before the hapless eyes of Eve. It was fragrantly ripened fruit that should never be consumed, never be even considered. Tauntingly calling for that first tantalizing taste, supplicating the use of tongue and teeth and the whole of one's mouth in the feat of devouring and savoring the forbidden. "What are you doing?"

And all at once, her breath escaped her lips, so delicately sweet and fluent. Her features washed in the light of graying moonbeams and tranquil illuminations coveted in obscurity. Giving her an almost peaceful expression as but a simple word cascaded from that decadent mouth; so very unimportant and singular, but so encompassing and forlorn all in the same breath.

"Dreaming."


	6. Carnality Unleashed

**A/N: **Prepare to pucker up and savor the lemony goodness my friends. WARNING high sexual content, if you don't like smut and other carnalities then I suggest you stop reading here. This is it, this is the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, be kind, read... REVIEW.

"You  
You

You are still a whisper on my lips  
A feeling at my fingertips  
That's pulling at my skin

You leave me when I'm at my worst  
Feeling as if I've been cursed  
Bitter cold within " - '_Days Go By' _by _Dirty Vegas_

-_You know you want more than this_-, this was a voice that she'd not heard until that scandalous night, the events that had set in motion the unfamiliar needs that drove through her veins like a poison turning her vision red with the heat of unfulfilled demand. A low soft moan escaped from her lips before she could help herself, she was drawn to that little dip in his torso daring against all common sense to delve her tongue shallow into its contours, tracing her tongue in a slow circle around its edges. A small smile graced her lips as she felt him shudder beneath the cool trailings of that appendage. His arms squeezed tighter, his breath coming out hot and fast across the top of her scalp, was it in warning... was it in acceptance? She didn't exactly care at that moment, only the sweet candescence of one voice filled her ears and her mind and it was shouting over all the others, burying them beneath its dictum _-MORE... give me MORE...-_

"Sakura," his voice trembled, echoing the heralded confusion and excitement building within his own being. His body betrayed him, it warred with his steely self control, committing treason to the very ideas that had stayed his hands thus far. This was wrong, she was too young, she was his student... his to protect... HIS to safeguard against the harsher realities of life, to shield and covet away and provide sanctuary to. But he couldn't deny the hard bulge of his manhood responding to the tiny little flicks of her tongue along the curve of his stomach and lower skirting the edges of his pants now. Oh Kami, her small hands were just there, rubbing over him through the material of his leggings, encouraging the uprising of his baser instinct.

"Stop this," but his voice hadn't come out sounding as strong as he'd have liked, it had fallen like a gentle breeze, almost an admission of wanting so much more. His fingers twitched around her, took firm hold of her shoulders as if he would toss her away from him, be rid of the foul temptress that only now lay her mouth over his stiffening shaft, her warm and soft lips cradling but a small portion of him through the restrictions of cloth. He had to stop this now before he lost himself, but he found himself wondering when she'd fallen away from that tapestry of purity in which he'd held her in such high esteem. Coils of heat were pouring in through that single swelling digit of offending flesh feed with insatiable need by the girl now kneeling before him. Painfully deep, his fingers left bruises across her shoulders, incited small gasps of despondency from the vixen.

"Please," and that was his undoing, her pleading utterance for acceptance, the soft and tortured look as she turned her face up to him in the broken rays of dying light. She seemed so very ethereal, so very insubstantial and again wavering on the nonexsistant fumes of some half life. He'd wanted to quash that countenance from her features forever, to give her anything to hold onto, even if it was for a short time his unbefitting flesh. There was a void to be filled and she wanted him to fill it, wanted him to carve himself into her continuance, grounding her to something very absolute and concrete. And if this was all he could do for her, he would fulfill his obligations, and be damned the unruly devotions of his mortal failings to the call of her wanton lusts.

He'd pulled her up with lightening reflexes, finding her mouth and not waiting for that parting welcome of her pert little lips. His was going to fill her, was going to surge hedonistically with every part of his vitality till that look in her eyes was cowed beneath the weight of his own ravenous compulsions. Her whimpers were simply a delight to be devoured as his tongue swept in past her defenses delving profoundly to sip of the nectar contained within that candied passage. A soft groan muffled against the bruising weight of his mouth brought him round to the fact that he'd forcibly slammed her into a nearby tree, the very same tree that she'd fallen from. Everything was blurring down to one moment and the next, his hands moving with trained speed greedily and unabashed tearing open her red dress edged in white, freeing the stiff peaks of taut breasts, the nipples long since having been rock hard.

She closed her eyes then, no objection forth coming as she answered his passions with her own, but her mind was set adrift, pulling her down into visions of her lost love despite the very real hands and mouth claiming her. Her fingers were trailing blindly across the expanse of a smoothly chiseled chest, the muscles chording beneath her not-so-innocent huntings. The warmth was pooling in her groin, aching to be pierced through to be driven to release, the delicate petals of her feminate flower dripping with the fluids of her vivification. As in all things, her teacher was late on his cue, taking his time and arriving at his destination when he so deemed it. He'd neglected the soft orbs of her breasts, drawing tight in exhilaration, he'd moved past the tempting invitation of that creamy bosom his hand scalding a path down her torso and to the shorts that clung fixedly to the fine definition of her legs.

Rational thought was all but cast aside, the decadent panting of two breaths risen in the thralls of frenzy accented by the sound of metal slicing easily through flimsy material. The kunai in his grip quivered, zig-zagging in its urgencies to release her of the burdens of those covers and the all too thin undergarments that bared him entrance into her most private oasiss. Expertly the cloth peeled and fell away leaving her vulnerable to his more private advances, if her eyes had been open she would have seen his eyes narrow, would have caught the motion of the kunia twirling on the edge of a finger before being slide home into the sheath on his thigh. But she was oblivious to it all, her head falling back against the tree, eyes squinted shut in preparation of what should come next and how she wanted what came next, wanted the feel of something... someone else inside of her.

"Fill me... fill me NOW," her smaller body thrashed, shifting forward in offering as the mouth of her nether lips parted enticingly, they shone with her moisture, making the passage slick, the scent of it wafting up like a heady incense to provoke him to take what she was sacrificing for that minute amount of harmony. A rustle of cloth and his hands upon her hips spread her wider, splaying her legs to rest upon his own and the evidence of his compliance stroked over the bud of her sex, making her cry out with that teensy massage of sensitive nerves. Clamping his lips down over hers, swallowing down each new cry from that sweet little mouth he pushed himself inside of her. It'd almost been too much for either to bare, her walls stretching unbelievable wide to accommodate the fit of him so very large swollen. She writhed uncontrollably, fighting against the breach of such an intimate part of her semblance, spikes of pain danced along her spine, up and up to encompass each delicately balanced nerve that flooded too with the enchantment of this filling.

Silently he cursed, his thoughts brief coherent flashes across the front of his brain, she'd been penetrated before, her maidenhead was gone, but no further than that. It'd seemed almost cruel to mark this beauty in such a fashion, a blemish of ill deed and she was deserving of so much more than that. It could have only been one that would have left her in such states, taking his leisures, indulging brutishly and unrequited. The boy's piercing eyes haunted the back of his mind, stole through his thoughts, invading HIS visceral moment with her. A grunt of anger made him deepen his strokes, forced him to speed his assault of that velvet smooth passage, so very slick over his oh so hard shaft. The sound of the coupling was thick and meaty, the wet drive of stony flesh pounding in a ferocious tempo into yeilding flesh, the beseeching whines from her and the feral volcilizations of his lecherous efforts. But his eyes upon her face brought another flare of chagrin, her eyes were still closed tight.

Her blatantly euphoric face contorted in pleasure wasn't enough, the soft pant of her labored breath wasn't enough. Her eyes were still closed to him, still locking part of her away from the true moment and there was enough pride within himself to despise that. No, this wouldn't do at all. She was going to acknowledge him, was going to acknowledge the fact that this was his stiff shaft thrusting deeply between her quivering thighs, pushing and pulling the pleasure in varying degrees through her body, pooling the warmth into the apex of her womb.

"Look at me damn it," his voice was rough with his own husky drive, he widened his stance allowing the small slip of a girl to drop lower, her weight coming down on his already straining thighs, impaling her ever sharper onto his pulsing member as he forced her back against the tree with each powerful thrust. His hands were on either side of her head, knuckles mottled as his fingers gripped at the bark behind her, her hair tickling so teasingly across his bare arms. He made a grab for her face, a strong hand gripping her chin forcing that lolling head to face forward. Ever so slowly those drowningly lost orbs fluttered open to look upon him, the distance in them clear and present.

No, this wasn't going to do at all. A moment of clarity and both his eyes came open wide, the single obsidian orb of his left eye dancing in a memorizing manner to draw her eyes to his own and then the swirling red and black sharingan began to spin within the right, pulling her further still into his commanding presence. He watched with satisfaction as the mist cleared away from her vision, brought her back round into the carnality she'd invoked herself. She was so blessedly tight as he drove himself harder into the fragile sheath of her body, her walls clinching like a fist around the invasion of her sexuality.

He could feel she was on the edge as he held her gaze, held her body with his own and took possession of her most intimate treasures, his cock almost vulgar as it slid the length of her folds, the bulbous head teasingly rubbing the engorged nub before wetly slamming back inside her. Her hips bucked up to meet his strokes, wild with abandon, she couldn't look away from him now, she was trapped within the scope of his scrutiny. He leaned in, his hitched breath scalding hot across her lips as he brushed past her cheek to the shell of her ear. With a sharp thrust he forced the full length of that hard girth into her palpitating cavern, caressing her with the very tip of him over that rough spot deep within the core of her being, she was riding higher, frantic and desperate as she tried to force him faster, but it was no use, he crushed her small body against the support and source of her confinement against her back.

"Who's your Daddy?", he timed his breathless whisper just at the climax of her convulsions, her orgasm almost violent in its intensity, she flailed and lashed about, her small hands digging into his shoulders, tiny crescent moon shapes left in his pale skin slowly seeping of crimson. But it'd had the affect he'd wanted, that one thing he'd craved most from her, an acknowledgment, his name screamed at the peak of her passion. "KAKASHI..." And that was the sweetest thing he'd heard the whole of the troublesome evening, she couldn't deny the lasting taint that would be left this night in her mind, so endearing and forbidden in its illicit submission. It was now their shared sullied undisclosed truth.

The spasms that rocked her body sent him into a frenzy, he from the first moment had harbored no illusions about gentleness and propensity, surrendering to the pure lewdness of the fucking of his student. With a final grunt and a embellished whimper from her bruised lips his seed spilled forth white hot, pouring in copious amount deep into her womb. The wood at his fingers began to crack and splinter, his fingers making deep purchase into the tree at the strength surging through his limbs as that wash of delight filled him and spilled over. But still he held her gaze, forced her to witness that purely masculine expression of assuredness in the propriety of her well ridden and laviscious form. Her eyes drew wide, for that was a look she'd never thought to see upon this man's face, it burned into the eyes and burrowed into her brain, she would remember this look for the rest of her life, even if she never partook of it again.

"Sensei," it was barely a whisper, an admission of reverence spoken slurred and breathless as the strength left her body and the darkness fluttered over the edges of her consciousness drawing her down into a slumber where not even the horrid monsters of her ego could find her. He held her thus, relearning how to breath as her sweet little figure slumped against his in complete submission and comfort. He'd purposefully waited to pull himself free of the restraints of her slit, savoring the unbelievable lethargic ambience, and taking an equal amount of relish in the small groan that cascaded from her unconscious form.

One night of bliss, one night of damnable chaos and stolen titillation and the girl with the hair the color of cherry blossoms found herself resting more peacefully within the comforts of home and hearth than ever before. The pain alone would be enough proof of her erotic escapades in the coming days, but it'd given her a measure of lucidity and tranquility that she never would have achieved all on her own. And always and forever she would be grateful of the man that had first lain so deep within her tenement, a small part of her would always somehow belong to the Copy Ninja of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.


	7. Author's Note Please Read

**Author's Note:**

I wanted to make it perfectly clear that I in no way encourage pedophilia. For the sake of any and all future Sakura/Kakashi pieces I might write I would like it known that Sakura and other characters will have been aged despite where in the timeline the story takes place. For this piece, Sakura is age 17 almost 18. Thank you.


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